Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Warrior’s Backing

“Has the test already ended?”

Kellyburn glanced at me before speaking.

“Mikelan, report truthfully what you saw.”

“Yes, my lord. Leon subdued Ryan without even using a weapon.”

Surprise flickered across Kellyburn’s face.

“Mikelan, how many in your unit are stronger than Ryan?”

“Countless. However, among those his age, none have been able to stand against him.”

At that, I opened my eyes wide. I knew Ryan was strong—but I didn’t expect Mikelan to evaluate him that highly.

I suddenly grew curious about my own level. Ryan had the appearance of a young man just stepping into adulthood. Meanwhile, I was only fifteen—at least three years younger than him.

Yet, Ryan was said to be unmatched among his peers. And he wasn’t even an ordinary soldier, but a soldier trained under a ducal household. The thought gave me a strange feeling.

Kellyburn seemed to be thinking the same thing. He looked at me with an unreadable gaze, then smiled faintly.

“It seems Count Withers from the frontier has sent me quite a useful gift this time. Just as well—the rules of the Territorial War have changed, so this works out nicely. Leon.”

“Tomorrow’s Territorial War has been simplified under His Imperial Majesty’s command. A five-on-five tournament. His Majesty, wishing to minimize the casualties from prolonged wars between territories, has decreed that each household select five representatives to fight in a duel.”

I understood what Kellyburn meant. In short—he wanted me to fight tomorrow.

And it would be a simple one-on-one duel. Much easier than fighting on a battlefield where one might be struck down at any moment.

“Don’t let your guard down. The Wilhelm Marquisate is renowned as a family of magic. The mages they raise are strong enough to handle ten soldiers with ease.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That alone won’t be enough.”

Kellyburn’s expression turned grave.

“His Majesty ordered that, for fairness, the participants in the tournament must be of the same age group. Your opponent will be a twenty-year-old from the Wilhelm Marquisate. And twenty—that’s the age that represents a family’s future.”

“This isn’t something to take lightly. Because twenty represents the future of a house, the Wilhelm family will surely send out one of their finest. It will be a difficult fight.”

Kellyburn emphasized “difficult” again and again, as if doubting me. I understood his concern.

This was a tournament where each house’s representative fought for honor—but I wasn’t truly one of Kellyburn’s people. It was only natural that he’d feel uneasy entrusting me with such a task.

So, I raised my hand and spoke.

“Your Grace, I have something to say.”

“I’m fifteen. Am I even allowed to fight someone in their twenties?”

A look of confusion spread across Kellyburn’s face.

“You’re… in your teens?”

“…Mikelan. Didn’t you say we were short on a teenage representative?”

“That’s correct, my lord.”

“What a perfect coincidence. Just the right talent has appeared.”

A satisfied smile spread across Kellyburn’s lips—one of relief, as though a lingering headache had just been cured.

Time passed quickly, and the day of the Territorial War arrived.

I rode in a carriage following Kellyburn. Inside were five of us, including him and myself. Judging by their solemn expressions, it was clear that all of them were participants who would face the Wilhelm Marquisate.

But something puzzled me. The tournament was supposed to be five-on-five.

Yet there were only four combatants in the carriage. One was missing. I asked,

“Your Grace, don’t tell me… you’ll also be participating in the tournament?”

“Does that sound strange?”

Kellyburn nodded slightly, as though he understood my confusion.

“A minor trick. The Wilhelm Marquisate will likely employ the same strategy. Most of our opponents will probably be mercenaries. Now, think—what do you suppose would happen if a mercenary dared to injure a noble, even in a Territorial War?”

A simple yet clever ploy. While the Territorial War allowed killing, that privilege had its limits.

Could a common mercenary truly dare strike a noble?

Even if the rules excused it during the war, the threat of retaliation afterward would keep them in check.

And Kellyburn wasn’t some low-ranking noble like a baron or viscount—he was a duke.

No mercenary, no matter how reckless, would dare lay hands on a duke.

‘That means we’ve practically secured one guaranteed win.’

Now, the problem lay with the remaining matches.

As for myself, I wasn’t too worried. Even if the opponents used the same kind of trick as Kellyburn, I still held the standing of a member of the Elphrel royal bloodline.

Though I had never thought of myself as royalty, the Empire certainly saw me that way.

I decided to make use of that misconception.

As I organized my thoughts and strategies, we arrived at the battlefield.

I stepped down from the carriage and looked around.

‘Just an open plain. Nowhere to hide.’

Strange. The Wilhelm Marquisate was a famed house of magic. Even if their team consisted mostly of mercenaries, at least one of them should have been a mage.

‘But this kind of terrain puts mages at a huge disadvantage. Do they have something hidden up their sleeves?’

Just as that thought crossed my mind—

“It’s been a while, Duke Kellyburn.”

A calm, elderly gentleman across the field greeted us with a genial smile.

I looked closely at him. White hair, neatly kept beard—an age where retirement would have been no surprise.

‘Is that Marquis Wilhelm? He doesn’t look all that strong on the surface.’

I tried to get a better look, sharpening my sight—when our eyes met.

A terrifying pressure crashed over me. Killing intent—focused solely on me—crushed down like a mountain. My body almost staggered from the weight.

It was only when Wilhelm broke eye contact that I managed to regain my composure.

The most overwhelming aura I had ever felt.

‘Stronger than Reinhardt, maybe?’

No… perhaps not. Count Reinhardt had never shown me his full power. The comparison wasn’t fair.

Even what I’d just felt from Wilhelm was probably only the tip of the iceberg.

A shiver of excitement ran down my spine.

Just how far above us did the true strong ones of this world stand?

At the same time, my body tingled with exhilaration. In my past life, I had never felt anything before. After all, no one had ever gone all out against a third-rate ronin like me.

I clenched my fist tightly.

Someday, I too would have power that would not bow before someone of such strength.

And when that day came, if we were to meet again… Follow current novᴇls on NoveI★Fire.net

Before I knew it, Kellyburn—who had finished speaking with Wilhelm—asked me. My entire body was drenched in sweat. He was probably asking if I was physically fine.

I straightened my back as if nothing was wrong.

“There’s no problem.”

“That’s a relief. Things aren’t going very well at the moment.”

“Wilhelm has brought an annoying strategy.”

Kellyburn gestured with his chin toward Wilhelm’s side. I turned my head—and what I saw there was—

Wilhelm had composed his entire team of nobles. Every single participant was a mage from the Marquisate of Wilhelm.

Because of that, aside from Kellyburn and me, the rest of our team looked visibly uneasy. It was only natural. Even if the battlefield was disadvantageous to mages, the opponents were still nobles.

For common-born participants, it was nothing but pressure.

Only Mikelan—who looked like he’d seen everything there was to see on a battlefield—remained unmoved.

“Fight a noble? Does that even make sense as a rule?”

The thirty-year-old mercenary and the twenty-something Ryan could not hide their dismay.

But Wilhelm paid them no attention. Standing about a hundred paces away, he smiled unpleasantly and spoke.

“It seems our side is ready.”

Wilhelm’s voice carried across the plains with a deep resonance. That such volume could come from that aged body—he must have used mana to amplify it.

I turned my gaze toward our opponents. They stared back at us with smug faces, their crooked grins twisted with arrogance.

Kellyburn let out a sigh.

“Leon, you’ll go first.”

The tournament started in order of age—from youngest to oldest. Which meant I would be the first to step forward.

Someone from the opposite side, a boy around my age, also came forward.

Like me, he was in his mid-teens. He looked at me with a mocking smile, full of contempt.

To him, I was just a common mercenary. And for a mercenary to strike a noble, even in a Territorial War, was unthinkable.

‘He probably already thinks he’s won.’

That was exactly why I thought—this was my chance.

“I am Edonic of House Wilhelm. Mercenary, state your name.”

Edonic snickered, then turned to Marquis Wilhelm and nodded, as if exchanging a silent signal.

With the backing of his powerful house, he clearly believed this battle would end in a one-sided victory.

Indeed, in this world, backing was everything. Even a pathetic fool like him could act so arrogantly, merely because he carried the name of a Marquisate behind him.

“What are you waiting for, mercenary? Aren’t you going to surrender?”

I stared at him blankly. …Surrender?

I had expected to learn something from this. I thought, being a renowned house of magic, they would at least fight honorably.

‘But this duel has neither romance nor fairness.’

I began walking toward him, step by step.

Seeing me approach, Edonic frowned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He still didn’t seem to understand. I said nothing, continuing to walk toward him.

Then, finally sensing something off, Edonic spoke again, his voice slightly trembling.

“You’re not coming to hit me, are you? A mere mercenary wouldn’t dare strike me.”

At that moment, he wrapped his body in a mana shield—his instincts warning him that something was wrong.

Feeling safer within his barrier, Edonic smirked.

‘Now there’s no way I can lose. But what’s wrong with this lunatic? Why’s he trying to fight me?’

Behind him stood Marquis Wilhelm himself. Surely this mercenary knew that. So why was he still walking toward him?

I could read his every thought. His face revealed everything. Even without much intuition, anyone could tell what he was thinking.

I opened my mouth slowly.

“I have backing too.”

“…Don’t talk nonsense! You’re not seriously thinking Duke Kellyburn will protect you, are you?”

“My backing is far greater than Duke Kellyburn could ever be.”

An immense surge of energy burst from my entire body. The grass and soil beneath my feet scattered violently.

It was not the aura of a mere mercenary. It was the unmistakable presence of a true warrior.

Everyone present, including Edonic, froze in place.

“My name is Leon, son of Zeke Fritz, the greatest warrior of Elphrel.”

“They say people call my father the Conqueror King.”

At those words, Edonic’s face turned deathly pale—

—and my fist smashed squarely into his face.